


stumbling with snowballs

by jamesiee



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Drinking, Gen, OMGCP Winter Extravaganza, Snowball Fights, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 00:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12923313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesiee/pseuds/jamesiee
Summary: The sounds of the party don't follow them down the street as March and April make their way back to the volleyball house. March thinks that might be because the snow that's been steadily falling all day dampens the sounds beyond their breathing, puffing out into the cool air. She's also leaning heavily on April, having forgotten how well the bright green of the tub juice hides the alcohol, so what does she know really?Or, March and April walk home at midnight and get more than a little distracted on the way.





	stumbling with snowballs

**Author's Note:**

> [OMGCP Winter Extravaganza](https://omgcpwinterextravaganza.tumblr.com/); December 4: Midnight snowball fight 
> 
> trigger warning for dry heaving/mention of vomiting, but not a lot of detail beyond a character feeling like they're gonna throw up and then bracing themself for something that never comes.
> 
> i dunno if march and april are in a relationship in this. i think it can be read either way, and i can't decide which way i wrote it, so have fun?
> 
> * * *
> 
> completely unbeta'd so any and all mistakes are my own.

The sounds of the party don't follow them down the street as March and April make their way back to the volleyball house. March thinks that might be because the snow that's been steadily falling all day dampens the sounds beyond their breathing that puffs out into the cool air but she's also leaning heavily on April, having forgotten how well the bright green of the tub juice hides the alcohol, so really, what does she know? 

It could be a romantic walk, with the snow still coming down in soft clumps to settle in their hair without melting and the street lights cast an orange, surreal glow on everything that makes it feel like they’re in alone in the world. Really though, it’s a more dangerous walk than anything with how hard March is concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, wishing desperately that she hadn’t stayed to get her ass kicked at the beer pong table for a second time. She’s got a flight home in the morning that she’s really going to regret being hungover on.

“I can’t believe I got talked—” March pauses to hiccup “—into drinking tub juice again.” She stops walking to cover her mouth while she swallows thickly, slightly concerned that she might throw up in the fresh snow of some random yard. When nothing comes up, March lets out a deep breath through her nose.

“I’m not,” April says. She keeps walking, either not noticing that March has stopped or choosing to keep going because her beer jacket isn’t nearly as thick as March’s. “You’re just a sucker for bright colours.” 

March wants to respond, but a gust of wind picks up suddenly, causing her to flinch back to tuck her chin into her collar  to save herself from the wind’s bite. The movement was a bad idea; suddenly her head is spinning even faster, and her stomach rolls unpleasantly. She’s pretty sure she’s going to lose whatever is still sloshing around there so March assumes the best throw up position, bracing her hands on her knees for balance, and glares down at the snow pile while she waits for something to either come up or the nausea to pass. 

“Really?” April asks, still standing about 10 feet from March, like she has any room to judge since she got a piggyback home from the Halloween kegster after getting intimately acquainted with the front bushes of the Haus. 

March flips her off. She gags, curling her spine, but nothing comes up. She coughs a few times and spits out the sour taste of vodka and tequila that that brings up. March stays bent over for another minute or so, breathing in deeply through her mouth and then out through her nose between dry heaves. Eventually her stomach starts to settle down and the world stops spinning so quickly. 

“Are you done?” April calls. “It’s fucking freezing.” 

March considers the question. The urge to vomit is gone, having disappeared somewhere between one retch and the next, just leaving the beginnings of a headache that’s a reminder that she’ll need to drink lots of water when she gets to her room. March isn’t sure she completely trusts the lack of nausea though, so she straightens up slowly, just in case dinner decides to make a quick reappearance. 

She gets hit in the face with a snowball for her troubles.

“What the fuck!?” March sputters, rocking back on her heels to catch herself. The movement isn’t as jarring as it could’ve been—her stomach doesn’t decide to empty itself—but there’s snow up her nose and dripping down her neck and into her collar. She shakes her sleeves over her hands so can wipe what’s stuck to her eyelashes to see April’s shit eating grin. 

“I hate you so much,” March grumbles. She lefts a shoulder so she can rub most of the snow off her face, feeling feels unfortunately sober in the moment. The shock of the cold chased the last of the alcohol out of her system, so she doesn’t think hard about ducking down to grab a handful of snow and rush down the sidewalk to get April back.

Unfortunately, her body hasn't caught onto March’s rediscovered soberness as quickly and she stumbles. April is half turned away, having correctly expected retaliation and trying to run away, so March falls onto her legs. They hit the ground hard; April flat on her back while March falls forward onto her stomach, just barely missing jamming her chin into April’s hipbone.  

For the second time that night, their breathing is the only sound March can hear, while they both try to catch it. The snow is still falling. March can feel it on the small of her back where her sweater has ridden up, and she’s start to feeling nauseous again as the hangover sets in early, so she hides her face in April’s stomach, rubbing her face in the soft t-shirt April wears under her flannel. 

“You good?” April asks softly, shifting a little under March. The snow is probably uncomfortably cold against her back, if how it’s seeping into the knees of March’s jeans is any indication, but it’s mostly April’s fault they’re in this position anyways so she doesn't move. March lies on top of April for another thirty seconds before groaning and pushing herself back onto her knees. April rolls to her feet more gracefully than March thinks she should be able to manage right now, but takes the hand that April offers up, keeping a hold of it so she can wrap an arm around April’s shoulders when they’re both standing. They start back down the sidewalk again.

“I’m gonna be super pissed if I get a cold,” April says. 

“You laughed and threw snow at me in my time of need,” March huffs.

April lets out a snort that turns into a giggle, which then grows into a full belly laugh. She has to stop and brace herself on her knees, an imitation of March’s outdoor puking position, though with much more joyful sounds coming out.

March is tempted to push her into the snow again.

She doesn’t. 

She does get dibs on being the little spoon when they get home. 

It’s exactly how every night should end.

(March could do without the headache she gets when she wakes up though, but that's probably her fault for forgetting to drink water.)

**Author's Note:**

> im on [tumblr](http://pongpalace.tumblr.com/) if you wanna feed the validation beast and reblog or hangout :)


End file.
